If the world were to wake up tomorrow and I wasn’t in it, I’d want it to know this. I’ve been depressed, I’ve been exhausted, I’ve been down and out, worn out, torn down until, like most who go through it, they begin to isolate, hide away, and doubt their perception until they can’t even make small decisions. But even on my worst day, my most down, my lowest and loneliest, where I find myself asking upward, “Why don’t I deserve to be loved?” I have never, for a minute, ever, no matter how depressed, been miserable or lost my joy. Because it comes from a place that can’t be touched. I eat Happy Meals, I love Disney movies, I think cat videos on You Tube are the best comedy there is. Barack Obama brings more joy in my soul in five minutes than some people exhibit in their entire earthy existence. I have never been, and will never be, an unhappy person — even when drowning in mind-scrambling depression.
And so often, people don’t understand what “the blues” are.
Rachel Maddow suffers depression, and I have never seen a more joyful person in my life.
Depression is a chemical condition or reaction to years of abuse, but it doesn’t change the soul of a person even when it coats their life with a dark cloud. And my soul cannot be beat down even if the world works on the rest of me. I’ve laughed on my worst day and I’ve laughed on my best. That’s what I loved so much about our Nuna (for family reading this) — she had that joy. And I’ve always believed it was Chunky Brown (my, in my eyes, dad), but I know it’s Jesus Christ.
But not the Jesus Christ these shameful “Christians” of late try to convince us exists, but one that works in any and all things. My biggest accomplishment in life is that, to this point, I survived. I’m not a success. I’m not even normal. But I am not drunk and I survived. No matter what, no matter how frequent, I’ve refused to believe that there isn’t still a purpose for me. Of all the things my Uncle Chunky gave me, that is the one I’m most grateful for — he taught me God. One that loves you when you’re alone, and forgives you and believes in you even when others only see awful things about you that aren’t even true. I think I would still be drunk or I would have set in my garage with the car running if I didn’t have faith that something up there loves me. You can call me all the names you want, world, but don’t you ever call me miserable. Because that’s one thing I have never been. Not even on my worst day.
And that is something depression will never touch.
* This post is for all those out there thinking… Will the sun ever come out again?
I promise you — it will. And for me, it comes out Thursday. And it’s a BIG ORANGE sun!